


You Only Wish Twice

by Diana Williams (dkwilliams), dkwilliams



Series: Wishes & Dreams [7]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - James Bond Fusion, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2015-01-05
Packaged: 2018-03-05 14:19:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3123311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dkwilliams/pseuds/Diana%20Williams, https://archiveofourown.org/users/dkwilliams/pseuds/dkwilliams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wizarding Britain's most formidable spy goes into action, but can he resist the wiles of Dr. V's most seductive henchman?</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Only Wish Twice

**Author's Note:**

> Back in the "wishing candle" timeline

Severus Snape crossed his arms across his chest and glared at his lover. "No, Albus. I absolutely refuse. It is just too humiliating."

Albus Dumbledore smiled at Snape, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Come now, Severus. Don't you think you can carry it off?"

Snape looked at him indignantly. "Of course I can - if I _wanted_ to. I just have no intention of doing this."

"It will be fun."

"For you, perhaps. I've seen you drooling over those movies at Potter's house, and you're always keen for a shag after watching them." Snape snorted. "And a more far-fetched notion of what a spy's life is like I've never seen. _I_ certainly never had beautiful women falling into my bed."

"The more fool them," Dumbledore said fondly.

"Why don't we switch roles? After all, the role of spy is more in my repertoire than yours."

Dumbledore gave Snape an amused look over the top of his glasses. "Somehow, I don't think I could carry off _your_ role as well as you. This beard doesn't exactly enhance the femme fatale look."

Snape smirked. "Oh, I don't know, Albus. I find you devastatingly attractive."

"You are a trifle biased, dear heart." Nonetheless, Dumbledore smiled.

"You won't get round me on this one, Albus. There is nothing you can say that will make me go along with this Wish."

Dumbledore wrapped his arms around Snape and nuzzled him under the ear, knowing that this was his lover's weak spot. "What if I promise that I'll do anything you want for your next wish?"

Snape shivered at the delicious sensations even as he steeled himself to refuse, but then he paused and considered. "Anything? No qualifications whatsoever?"

"I trust you."

Snape sighed and dropped his forehead onto Dumbledore's shoulder. "You are a fool; you do know that, don't you? Very well. But I refuse to wear a dress."

Dumbledore laughed softly and kissed him, then let him go. "Of course, my dear. Although with your legs, no doubt you'd look smashing."

Snape glanced down at his legs, hidden beneath his robes, then scowled at Dumbledore as he retreated into the bedroom to pull out the Wishing candle.

********************

Dumbledore found himself sitting in a sleek sports car in front of an elegant casino. He ran his hands reverently over the steering wheel, enjoying the feel of leather under his fingers. He would have loved to have driven it to the casino instead of starting his Wish parked in front, but he had a feeling that this Muggle contraption was more difficult to operate than it appeared to be. It wouldn't do to test Severus' patience by having to restart his Wish due to a crash.

"Park your car for you, sir?" a voice asked politely as the door on the driver's side opened, and he looked up to see a uniformed valet standing beside the door.

"Certainly," Dumbledore said, getting out of the car and tossing the keys to the young man. He walked toward the casino, pausing briefly to look at his reflection in the mirrored doors on the pretence of straightening his tie.

Dumbledore hardly recognised the man staring back at him. It was a face he hadn't seen for over a hundred years. Gone were his beard and spectacles. Gone, too, was the white hair, and in its place was thick, wavy auburn hair cut short and expertly styled. His body looked very much the same - he prided himself on the way he took care of his body even if Poppy said he ate too many sweets - but instead of his trademark flamboyant clothes, he was dressed in tailored evening dress and a crisp white shirt.

Dumbledore was not a vain man. He had accepted the passage of time with equanimity. He had watched wrinkles appear around his eyes while his hair and beard whitened without a qualm. And yet…and yet…

Even Dumbledore was not immune to the uncertainties engendered by having a lover one-third his age. The bond helped: Severus was energetic and enthusiastic, and through him the bond took fifty years off Albus. But sometimes he wondered if Severus might find a younger lover more satisfying. Not that he had any doubts about his partner's fidelity, but he couldn't help wondering.

Now he looked as he had one hundred years earlier - young, handsome, virile. He smiled at his reflection. He could hardly wait for Snape's reaction when he saw the younger Dumbledore.

Dumbledore entered the casino and paused for a moment to take in the sight. It was even more fascinating to see this place in person, rather than on Harry's television. Beautiful women in gorgeous gowns and glittering jewels slinked by on the arms of handsome men. Fortunes were being won and lost throughout the room on the turn of a card or the spin of a wheel. Fastidiously dressed servitors carried flutes filled with champagne and pretty barmaids catered to the elegant clientele's needs.

Sighting the bar, Dumbledore made his way towards it, casting a curious look at the gaming tables as he passed. The baccarat table looked particularly interesting, and he recalled that the character he was emulating was pretty good at it. Perhaps later, he thought - for now, he had an appointment.

Dumbledore arrived at the bar and signalled the bartender. "Martini," he said, "Shaken, not stirred."

While he waited for his drink, he looked around. The bar was doing a steady business, and as the person to his right moved away, someone else took his place. Dumbledore raised an eyebrow as he surveyed the new arrival. The man was slender and tall, and he wore his exquisitely tailored evening dress as if he had been born to it. Long dark hair shone like ebony and had been gathered into a clasp that sparkled with diamonds. Diamond studs glittered at his cuffs and - surprisingly - in the lobe of his right ear, and another diamond graced one of the long fingers on his right hand. His face in profile wasn't beautiful - the nose was too strong for that - but it was aristocratic and compelling.

The man pulled out a diamond-encrusted cigarette case and extracted one, then fumbled for a light.

"Allow me," Dumbledore said, pulling a lighter out of his pocket. The stranger allowed him to light his cigarette, and as his dark eyes flicked over Dumbledore, he was certain he saw surprise in them. "Dumbledore," he said by way of introduction. "Albus Dumbledore."

"Patrick Nicely," the man returned, extending his hand. "Pakt to my friends."

"Pakt Nicely?" Dumbledore's eyes trailing down the man's body appraisingly as he held the stranger's hand a shade longer than was appropriate. "Yes, you are indeed." The man flushed and slowly released his grip.

As the bartender returned with his martini, Dumbledore said, "May I buy you a drink?"

Pakt shrugged elegantly. "If you wish." To the bartender he said, "Arctic Kiss."

Dumbledore took a sip of his martini. "Sounds a bit cold. You should be careful - your lips could get frostbite, and that would be a great pity."

Pakt allowed a slight smile to touch his lips. "Then I'd have to find some way to warm them up, wouldn't I?"

"An excellent idea," Dumbledore said. "I'd be more than happy to offer my services."

Pakt smirked. "Are you always so forward, Mr. Dumbledore?"

"Only when I am overwhelmed by brilliance." Pakt's drink arrived and Dumbledore raised his glass in a toast. "To new acquaintances. May they become deep and satisfying."

Pakt touched his glass to Dumbledore's and took a sip. "You're an interesting man, Mr. Dumbledore. I don't believe I've seen you around here before now."

"I just arrived this morning," Dumbledore said, "but I plan on staying for a day or two. Longer, should I find my stay…agreeable."

"Is your visit here for business or…pleasure." Pakt's eyes travelled down Dumbledore's body and back up.

"Business," Dumbledore said. "I'm here to meet with a client, but I hope to have time for more pleasurable pursuits."

"One should always make time for pleasure," Pakt agreed, taking another sip of his drink. "What business are you in, Mr. Dumbledore?"

"Diamonds." He reached out to touch the diamond Pakt was wearing in his ear. "This is quite a beautiful one you're wearing. One rarely sees so perfect a diamond…and in such a perfect setting."

The young man flushed again, and Dumbledore thought the hint of crimson on the pale cheeks was quite attractive. "It was a gift, from my employer."

"Quite an employer, to bestow so expensive a gift."

"He's not my lover, if that's what you're suggesting," Pakt said, his voice sounding harsh.

"The loss is his," Dumbledore said quickly to soothe over an obviously sensitive subject. "And hopefully it is my gain. As a matter of fact, I have the entire evening free. Perhaps you would care to share it with me? I have reserved a suite here in the hotel."

"Unfortunately, I have other plans. Perhaps another time," his companion said, then leaned briefly against Dumbledore to murmur in his ear, "I would be interested in hearing more about your plans…for business and pleasure."

Dumbledore was sure he felt lips nuzzle at his ear before Pakt pulled back to collect his cigarette case. "Another time, then," he agreed.

He turned to lean back against the bar as he watched the other man walk across the room in the direction of the main hotel, admiring the way his clothes hugged his lean body. Then he sighed. Apparently, he had some time to kill after all.

***************

Dumbledore whistled a little tune as he headed towards the lift, a substantial amount of Muggle money tucked into his pocket. Baccarat had proven to be an interesting game; although calculating the odds had been laughably easy, pitting his wits against the bank had been even more challenging than playing poker with Minerva.

He put his hand into his pocket in search of the room key - and came up with a slip of paper instead. A room number was written on it in a handwriting he immediately recognised, and a smile touched his lips.

_So it begins._

He entered the lift and pressed the button for the appropriate floor, then wandered down the corridor, looking at the room numbers. Finding the right one, he tapped lightly on the door and was surprised when it swung wide open. He entered the room cautiously, wary of traps, and then stopped when he saw Pakt lying on the bed, wrapped in one of the plush complimentary robes - and nothing else.

"Isn't it a bit dangerous to leave your door open like that?" he asked.

Pakt smirked. "Perhaps I like danger."

Smiling, he closed the door behind him and surreptitiously locked it. "A man after my own heart. I hope you don't mind my dropping in on you like this - I appear to have misplaced my room key."

The young man picked up a key from the night table. "Oddly enough, I appear to have ended up with two keys. Might this one be yours?"

Dumbledore took the key, letting his hand linger on Pakt's a moment too long. "Yes, it is. Thank you for finding it for me."

"Now that you're here, perhaps you'll join me in a glass of champagne?" Pakt got up from the bed, flashing a bit of thigh as he did so, and crossed the room to a champagne bucket.

"I'd be delighted," Dumbledore said, "but I was under the impression that you had other plans for this evening."

The other man shrugged. "Plans change."

"That is fortunate for me." Dumbledore watched in the mirror as Pakt dropped a tablet into one of the glasses, then filled them both with champagne. He accepted his glass and pretended to take a sip, then looked around the room. "This is very nice - nicer than my room, as a matter of fact."

"I know the management," Pakt said, taking a sip from his own glass. Snape made a face at the taste - Dumbledore couldn't tell if it was disgust or disapproval - then resumed his character's face as he casually set down the glass. "You know, I don't usually do this sort of thing. Allowing strange men in my room."

Dumbledore set down his glass and took Pakt into his arms. "Perhaps if we got to know each other better, I would no longer be a strange man." He bent his head and nuzzled Pakt's neck under the ear, eliciting a breathless moan. He allowed his hands to wander over the slender body in his arms, surreptitiously searching for weapons. Finding none, he let his hands explore more pleasurable targets while his mouth travelled up the man's neck and along his jaw line.

"I'm not the kind of person who does this sort of thing," Pakt said, rather breathlessly, as Dumbledore untied the robe and slid it off his shoulders.

"That's all right," Dumbledore assured him. "I promise to respect you in the morning." Then he tumbled them both down onto the bed.

*************

Dumbledore lay in bed, indulging in a pleasant doze, when he sensed sudden movement nearby. He reached out, grabbing his assailant, and flipped so that he was pinning the man to the bed. Pakt lay there, panting, his eyes wide in surprise. In his hand, he clutched a snake-shaped dagger - Dr. V's trademark for his assassins. Dumbledore tightened his grip on that wrist, forcing the man to drop the dagger over the side of the bed.

"Who are you?" Dumbledore demanded. "And who are you working for?" The man glared at him, refusing to answer and trying to pull away, but Dumbledore tightened his grip and shook him. "Answer me!"

"Snape," the man he'd known as Pakt said, reluctantly. "Severus Snape."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "Dr. V's top agent? I'm impressed. I had no idea that I was so important to him."

"You are too close to discerning his plans. He had to have you eliminated."

"And sent you to do it?" Dumbledore gave him a mock-hurt look. "After all we meant to each other, too. Such a naughty boy."

Snape glared and muttered. "I'm not bad, I'm just scripted that way." Dumbledore chuckled and Snape tried to struggle free again, but his lover increased the weight pressing the other man to the bed and leaned down to nuzzle Snape's neck again.

"What - what are you doing?" Snape demanded, a little breathlessly.

"Continuing the rather interesting discussion we had earlier." Dumbledore kissed his way across the slender throat, pausing to lick and then suck the hollow at the throat. "Tell me more about V's plans."

"I - I can't," Snape said, panting. "He'll kill me. He's already going to be furious that I failed in my mission."

"I'll protect you," Dumbledore promised as he began kissing his way down Snape's body. "If you'll help me, I'll make sure that you never have to go near him again."

"You can't." Snape groaned, spreading his legs as Dumbledore slid further down. "He's too powerful."

"I have the weight of Her Majesty's Government behind me. We can change your identity, put you in a safe house." His tongue circled Snape's belly button, eliciting another groan. "I'm going to bring V down, I can promise you that. And I don't want to see you caught in the fall-out."

"I - I don't know." Snape was clearly weakening under the erotic assault. "I _want_ to get out, but..."

Dumbledore lifted his head - and Snape's legs, setting them on his shoulders. "Join me."

"I - oh!" Snape gasped as his body was spitted on the secret agent's prick. "Yes! I'll do it!"

Dumbledore leaned over and entwined their hands, pressing them against the bed by Snape's head, as he began slowly thrusting. "You'll show me how to get into his secret lair?"

"Yes!" Snape panted, rocking under his lover's assault. "Anything you want!"

Dumbledore murmured approval against Snape's lips and increased the speed of his thrusts. Before too long, both of them were shuddering under the impact of their climaxes, then collapsing sideways on the bed, still entwined.

Dumbledore sighed contentedly and pulled the sheet up over their cooling bodies.

Snape gave him an amused smile. "Do I take it that this fantasy was a successful one then, Albus?"

"Very successful," Dumbledore replied, pressing a kiss onto his lover's lips. "I only wish negotiations in the real world were as pleasurable."

"I _offered_ ," Snape pointed out.

"I know you did, dear heart," Dumbledore said affectionately. "And you know why I couldn't accept. Pretend is just that, a way to explore other choices without the unpleasant consequences."

"Fortunately for me. You do realize that in these Muggle novels and movies, the converted femme fatale invariably dies - and rather horribly at that," Snape pointed out. Rather pensively, he added, "Actually, I was certain that would be my fate as well."

Dumbledore tightened his hold on his lover, reminded of how close he'd come to losing this man. "Hush; don't think about that."

Snape tilted his head back so he could smirk at Dumbledore. "Still trying to coddle me, Albus?"

"Always." He touched the diamond stud earring again. "When did you pierce your ear?"

"I haven't. It appears to be part of the costume required for this role."

"I like the effect, although I think an emerald or ruby would look better with your colouring."

Snape smirked. "Planning on making an honest wizard of me, Albus?" He ran his fingers through Dumbledore's short, auburn hair. "Speaking of liking the effect," he said, "this is quite nice, but I like it better the other way." He kissed Dumbledore's naked chin. "And the beard as well."

Dumbledore gave him a surprised look. "Really? You prefer me the way I usually look?"

Snape frowned slightly. "Of course I do. Why do you ask?"

Dumbledore flushed slightly, looking away. "I thought - perhaps - it occurred to me that you might find me more attractive like this."

"Albus," Snape said softly, turning his lover's face back towards him. "I fell in love with you, white hair, beard, and all." He kissed Dumbledore. "I rather miss the moustache, too."

Dumbledore said, "I thought you said it tickles."

"It does, but that's not necessarily a bad thing." He smiled at Dumbledore, one of his rare, genuine smiles, and Dumbledore felt his heart melt. "So - shall we go and destroy the villain's lair, getting ourselves caught and placed in some improbable death trap from which you will rescue us at the last moment?"

Dumbledore smiled at him. "I have a better idea." He pulled the sheet up over their heads and whispered, "There's no place like home."

The End

* * *


End file.
